Father
by Kafka'sdragon
Summary: What would a father do for his son? Could Nagi keep his son safe by staying away? A oneshot story on what could have occured.


**A/N: While re-reading NegimaFan's story 'Negi's Mother' I wondered what Nagi was doing all of those years. He didn't expect to be alive long after Negi was born, though he did show up in the nick of time when the village was attacked. But what about the next time? Could Nagi really stay out of his son's life?**

**Double quotes indicate speech and single quotes indicate thoughts.**

**I do not own 'Negima' or its characters.**

* * *

Six Years Ago … 

Snow blanketed rooftops, the white powder made them glisten in the fire's glow. It was a perfect picture postcard scene, or would have been if the village wasn't being burned down by a horde of demons at the time. In the background, I heard the crackle as the blaze spread to yet another home.

In front of me, the huge demon pushed its fist against my barrier; the rocky ground beneath my feet fractured in response to the pressure. He and the others had attacked the village where I was born, the only place I have ever called home. My remaining family lived here, my brother and his wife, my niece Nekane, and my son.

Dispatching 200 demons wasn't difficult, but it did take time. I found Owen, my brother, with another group of mages; all were turned to stone. Fear blossomed in the pit of my stomach, and flowered when I found his lovely wife in the company of the Cocolova family. Her smooth, white skin had become as stiff and grey as her husband's.

Beyond the light of the blazing village, in a snow covered meadow, I found my son. He knelt next to his cousin's unconscious form and wept. I too wanted to weep, but because Negi was unharmed. A quick glance told me that Nekane would survive, but the old, pipe smoking wizard, Stan, was beyond any power to save.

I had never set eyes on Negi, having left his pregnant mother in the vain hope that they would be safer without me around. There were so many moments that I had missed: first word, first steps, first scraped knee, and first incantation. I had thought them all unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but looking down at the sobbing boy, I realized that they were parts of my life that I would never have, like a collection of photographs were each one had a piece missing.

"Forgive me," I muttered. "I've come too late."

He stood, his star-tipped wand tightly clutched in his fist. The boy shivered in the cold I barely felt. His face was screwed up in an expression of determination to protect his cousin. Even now I smile when I think about how he looked.

"You're Negi aren't you?" I asked. "You're so big."

His expression turned to shock when I ruffled his hair. There were so many things I wanted to give him right then, but that evil tyrant time, wouldn't allow. I held my staff out to him. He looked on in wonderment.

"That's right; I'd like you to have this." I tell him. "Call it a legacy."

The staff proved heavy for the boy, but Negi managed to keep it in his grasp. His eyes shone with a look like the worshipful stares I had received many times, but it was somehow different. "Father?" he called softly.

"We're out of time," I told him. "I must leave."

I floated upward and he followed saying that word again, "Father."

I thought I would never see him again so I wanted to leave him with some pearl of wisdom, but all I could think of was, "I've no right to say it, but grow strong, be happy."

As I faded from sight, I heard one last cry, "Father!"

* * *

…one year later… 

The headmaster's office at Meldiana hadn't changed a bit since the time I had attended school there, short as that was. The Magus hadn't either, and I remembered thinking he must have been born old.

He leaned back in his chair and regarded me, fingers steepled together in front of his long, white beard. "This is a very odd request," he said. "One I'm not sure I can approve of."

He stared at me with those old, all-knowing eyes, as if I was still a student here. "You were right to leave Negi with us," he told me. "He is diligent in his studies, modest in his demeanor, a model student."

"Unlike his father," I remarked, but he failed to take the bait.

The Magus continued to gaze through those cold orbs of his. "He worships you Nagi," he said in a voice barely above a whisper, but it rumbled in my ears as loud as thunder. "You are his hero."

For a moment, just one pitiful moment, I wanted to break down and cry, but I wouldn't give that old coot the satisfaction. "I don't want to be his hero," I said at last. "I want to be his father."

"And this will make you his father?" the Magus asked.

"No," I admitted. "But if I can't be his father, I'll settle for his friend."

The following morning, I sat on my haunches and watched as the farmer sprung the trap. The smooth metal bands snapped shut, breaking the stick he used to trigger it. Unexpectedly, I shuddered in response to its harsh sound. He pried the jaws apart and waited for me. "First time I ever did this," he commented as I lifted my black-tipped tail and placed a hind leg inside. He gently eased the bands together. "You mages are a funny lot," he remarked as he walked out of sight.

Footsteps approached and I saw a young boy enter the clearing. Though my heart swelled with pride at seeing him, I struggled as if trying to escape the trap.

"Ack! Please don't eat me!" I cried as he bent over me.

There was a warm, welcoming smile on his face. "Calm down," he told me as he cautiously reached a hand out. "You'll be okay now."

"I will be?" I squeaked. "I thought you were going to …"

He parted the jaws and I pulled my foot out. "Don't get caught in a trap again, okay?" he said. His hand lifted and the index finger glowed with energy. "I'm going to heal you with the healing spell I remembered."

We heard the farmer's tramp, but Negi didn't look away. "Hey kid!" the man shouted. "Get away from my trap! That ermine is mine!"

I skittered away into the bushes as my son rose and kicked the man in the shin. "Not anymore!" he shouted.

'Maybe not a model student,' I thought as I watched them argue. My whiskers twitched as I planned for our next meeting. 'I'll need a name.'

I recalled my last shopping trip. 'Albert,' I thought, remembering the tobacco aisle. I considered the tea row next. 'Let's see rosehips, Earl Gray, jasmine, ah, chamomile. Perfect.'

The farmer stormed off as Negi watched with arms crossed in triumph. And I, Nagi Springfield, also known as the Thousand Master, now enchanted into an ermine, prepared to enter my son's life.


End file.
